


Let's discuss: Between the lines

by fruitcakes



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bibliophile Wonwoo, Drabble, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, oblivious Wonwoo, reading and books related metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 18:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitcakes/pseuds/fruitcakes
Summary: The break-up of the mind of an avid reader.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to that section which most English textbooks have- where they ask you to answer questions inferred from the text.
> 
> I suck at those.

Wonwoo's a bibliophile; has been one for as long as he can remember. He started reading when he was nine, and he never really stopped. Over the years he's read several books. If you ask him the exact number, he won't know because he lost count sometime in 2011. 

The first book he read was a Hardy Boys' adventure, borrowed from his friend in third grade. It had taken a week to read the book, at the end of which Wonwoo decided that was the happiest week he had ever spent. 

Being a lonely kid, he didn't have tons of friends. So he found company in that book. And then he did it again, and again, till it became a habit. Reading went from being a hobby to a place of solace. 

It's a common saying that books are your best friends. They really are, especially if you're as quiet and shy as Wonwoo is. They're always ready to engage him in conversation, and just as eager to retreat when he feels overwhelmed. They'll sit on the shelf collecting dust for months—bought but never read—and still not take offence. Sandwiched between black and white pages, Wonwoo has some of his best memories stored, and they're not likely to fade. 

So for all intents and purposes, Wonwoo considers books his best friends. 

Soonyoung was the first to challenge that notion. 

 

"Nerd." Soonyoung snorted when Wonwoo told him. 

Wonwoo frowned. "You got a problem?" 

"Why do you call books your best friends?"

"Well they're always there for me when I need them, they don't complain when I go AWOL, they're fun and interesting and.. just... reliable." 

"Well I do all of these things too!" 

It was true. Soonyoung does all of those things. He's always there for Wonwoo—only a phone call or a text message away. Sometimes, not even that. He just knows when Wonwoo needs him. It’s as if the barometer in his house shows the changes in Wonwoo's moods along with the atmospheric pressure. And he shows up with the Ice Age trilogy or a Ghibli movie, and makes Wonwoo watch them with him, despite the fact that Wonwoo hates animated movies. He never complains when Wonwoo doesn't text him during the break at all, just hugs him embarrassingly tight in front of everyone when they return to school. And Soonyoung is probably the most interesting thing to happen to Wonwoo since his own birth. Without Soonyoung, Wonwoo thinks he would probably have led a very boring life. 

"Well, books don't get drunk at parties and make me drag them back to _my_ house and then hog _my_ bed and then throw up on _my_ sneakers."

Soonyoung groans, adorably scrunching his nose up. "That was one time!"

Wonwoo snickers. "Yeah, but books don't throw me under the train when they're caught skipping class." 

Soonyoung giggles. "Sorry about that." 

"Apology declined. I still have nightmares about the disapproving look my mother had given me."

Soonyoung smiles and looks sideways at Wonwoo. They're sitting in the car, parked outside Wonwoo's house. And the only light they have is from the unnaturally bright moon. It's good enough because they're not doing much apart from talking. 

"Well, I mean sure, books are great and they take you to new worlds and yada yada. But-" 

Here he pauses and looks at Wonwoo, eyes glinting and smile wide. Turning towards the back seat and leaning over, he pulls out a brown paper bag.

"They don't get you Taco Bell Chocodillas, do they?" 

Wonwoo's smile mirrors the boy's as he eagerly reaches for the packet, only to have it ripped away. 

"Ah—sorry. This is only for my best friend." 

"That's me!" Wonwoo shouts indignantly. His mouth is watering at the smell of chocolate permeating the interior of the car. 

"Well, you say books are your best friend so how can we be best friends." Soonyoung opens the packet and pulls the Chocodilla wrapper out. 

Wonwoo's sweet tooth keens at the sight. "Fine! You're my best friend." 

"Seal the deal." 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. "Don't push your luck, Soon." 

Soonyoung is wearing his signature cheeky grin. He begins pulling the packet open. 

"I hate you." Wonwoo mumbles but gives in to the temptation. He leans forward and plants a brief kiss on Soonyoung's left cheek, and takes the Chocodilla from his hands in the same breath. 

"You can't hate me, Wonwoo." 

"If I try hard enough, I'll succeed." 

At this, Soonyoung laughs, all his teeth shining in the moonlight. And in the darkness of the car, Wonwoo decides Soonyoung trumps everyone and everything in his list of companions. He's his best friend and he doubts anything can change that. 

~

On the first floor of Wonwoo's house, there's a large oaken book shelf spanning an entire wall—a special present from his parents when he turned sixteen. It used to be only half full then, but a few months ago Wonwoo ran out of space. Every single square inch of place on the shelf was taken up by pieces of fiction. 

It was full to the brim. At the sight of it, Wonwoo had smiled unknowingly—unsure of what he was feeling. He felt happy and burdened and nostalgic all at the same time. All the books lined up like little boxes—where most of Wonwoo's knowledge of life had come from. 

He thought he would never feel that strange cocktail of emotions again. 

Soonyoung proved him wrong. 

 

He had come over for a sleep-over—had hijacked Wonwoo's bed and blanket, leaving him cold and alone on the floor on the chilly April night. 

At the stroke of midnight, Soonyoung pattered down the stairs, barefoot and wearing just a flimsy t-shirt and boxers. When he came back to the room, his face was illuminated by the golden light of five candles placed in a haphazard circle on top of a pink cake. Soonyoung was glowing—literally and metaphorically—and smiling so wide his eyes were just half-moons. 

"Soon-ah, it's not my birthday." Wonwoo chuckled, watching in barely disguised confusion. 

"I know." 

"What's the cake for then?" 

"Do you really need a reason to have cake?" Soonyoung carefully placed the cake on the floor near Wonwoo. 

"Touché. But come on, what's it for?" 

"It's been exactly five years since we met." Soonyoung murmured. 

"You... you remember the exact date?" 

"Of course I do! You saved my life that day." 

Soonyoung was exaggerating. All Wonwoo had done was lie to the principal on his behalf, saying Soonyoung had been called to the library and he wasn't skipping class. That was the first time he'd been so bold to tell a fib. Looking back, Wonwoo was glad he had. Because it earned him Soonyoung's friendship. 

"You're extra." 

Soonyoung smiled as if he'd been complimented. "I know."

_1-2-3—_

They blew the candles and giggled a little at the silliness of it. Watching the smoke rise, Wonwoo made a wish. He wanted Soonyoung to be in his life for another five years. Ten years. However many years he could possibly keep the boy around. 

"Happy anniversary, Wonwoo-yah." Soonyoung sang as he smeared strawberry cream on his nose, bursting into laughter at the face Wonwoo gave him in return. 

And Wonwoo felt that same feeling again—the one he'd felt when he had seen the packed bookshelf. 

It was an unsolved jigsaw puzzle of thoughts and emotions. He felt full—with elation and a sense of achievement and nostalgia, tinged with the apprehension that comes from a moment that's too good to be true. The candles on the cake and the books on the shelf were all reminders of time whizzing past them. And Wonwoo accepted that graciously, because they were all good, happy times. 

~

Things are hardly ever black and white. There're always grey areas where the lines blur together. Wonwoo doesn't believe in polarising but one thing he is certain of—there're only two kinds of books in the world. 

The first kind is the emotional rollercoaster—with the insane adventures, crazy plot twists and a pace you struggle to match yourself with. At the end, you're left exhausted and drained, but in a good way. Because those books have closure, and the satisfaction that they leave you with is unparalleled.

And then there's the second kind. The kind that you lose yourself in so much, you forget that it will eventually end. You're left desperately wanting more. And those, Wonwoo thinks are the best sort of books. 

He finds himself licking the tip of his finger and trying to flip the last page, to check if there's two leaves stuck together, in hope of finding just a few more words. He would peel up the paperback binding if only he knew there lay a peek into the world of the characters. The prologue, not the aftermath. 

 

"You're an enigma wrapped in a mystery, Wonwoo. I never know what's going on in your head." Soonyoung will tell him sometimes, staring curiously at the hair falling on his forehead as if he could look through and see all of Wonwoo's thoughts that way. 

"That's because there's nothing going on in there. It's just cobwebs." He replies. 

"Cobwebs are great. You can tell me about the cobwebs." 

Wonwoo wants to remark how cheesy that was but he lets it go in favour of laughing and slapping the boy's shoulder. 

Soonyoung, even with all his open-handedness, honest eyes and unfettered expressions, is fascinating to Wonwoo. Even after being friends for years, Wonwoo's curiosity about his friend hasn't waned. 

He always wants to know more and more; right from the mundane things to the crazy antics, from the blurry childhood memories to the crisp, vivid adolescent ones. So Wonwoo asks a lot of questions. He asks Soonyoung about his day, his meals, the state of his room, anything. And when they're together in bed for a sleepover, he poses the questions he's afraid to ask during the day. 

And Soonyoung answers them all with enviable patience and unwavering enthusiasm and complete honesty. 

Soonyoung is an open book. 

And he's decisively the second kind. 

~

Any decent person with half a brain knows that books are not to be messed with. They're sacred and ought to be cared for and worshipped. 

Sure, that's a little bit of an exaggeration but it's also not that far from the truth. Wonwoo takes care of his books the way a mother watches over her toddler—careful to the point of being obsessive. 

He never reads while eating, never throws them on the floor, never dog-ears the pages and he certainly never puts them upside down while open. In fact, he always reads by keeping the diptych at right angle, so the spine doesn't crack. 

And once in a while, when he likes a cover too much, he covers it in cellophane. 

Wonwoo used to think he could never take so much care of anything except his books. 

This time too, Soonyoung was there to dash that thought. 

 

"Soonyoung, stop drinking! You'll get sick." 

Soonyoung had been chugging beer after beer, with not a care in the world. His cheeks were furiously red with Asian glow and his shirt was splattered with drops of alcohol. "I won't! I'm good. I feel great!" He slurred and got up from the couch.

The very next second, he slumped down onto the floor, hitting his head on the corner of the coffee table. 

"Soonyoung! Soon!" Wonwoo panicked, gripping the boy's shoulders and yanking him upright back onto the couch. He slumped lifelessly onto the cushions. 

Wonwoo pushed his hair back this way and that, checking for bruises, bumps, blood. But found nothing. He thought Soonyoung had passed out, whether from the alcohol or from the impact, he couldn't tell. That fuelled his worry even more. 

"Soon! Soonyoung, wake up. Are you okay? Does it hurt?" 

And Soonyoung's passive face bubbled into laughter, his eyes still pressed close. 

"It's not funny!" Wonwoo said indignantly. 

"You're right. It's not funny. It's just cute how worried you got." 

That was one instance. There're so many others when Wonwoo sets his mind to remembering them. And that was not counting the small moments—the little things he reserves for Soonyoung. Like fixing his hair when it falls into his eyes, sliding his gloves on for him because he always forgets, stopping him to tie his shoelaces for him when he's rushing to get to dance class. 

Wonwoo cares about Soonyoung in a way that's not just punctilious. It comes so easily that he doesn't realise what he's doing—doting on Soonyoung the way he never has for his books. 

~ 

Wonwoo used to think he's great at reading between the lines. Years of reading has trained him to pick up on the unsaid things and subtle undertones that most people miss. He thinks he's excellent at inference. 

Jihoon, in a very passionate outburst, tells him he's not. "Are you _stupid? Blind?_ Do you not notice _anything?_ " 

Wonwoo, to say that least, is very confused. With his brows furrowed and his head tilted, he innocently asks, "What are you talking about?" 

Jihoon groans, pulling on his hair and looking so frustrated he might just burst. "Soonyoung!" 

This got Wonwoo's interest. "What about Soonyoung?"

"You oblivious sloth. Do I have to spell it out for you?" 

Wonwoo nods. Jihoon sighs, and inhales sharply. 

"He likes you, Wonwoo. He talks about you all the time. Wonwoo this, Wonwoo that. He's either with you or thinking about being with you. He circles around you like a satellite around a planet. He's so smitten, it's fucking annoying!" He says in one long string of words. 

Wonwoo's world goes off kilter, and then slowly uprights itself as he pieces things together. It takes him a while. 

It takes him a while because all of the things Jihoon shouted about seemed so normal to Wonwoo. In the context of their friendship, it was nothing new for them to be linked by their hands and attached at the hip. 

 

Soonyoung comes back from his two-week long Japan trip with bags full of candy and gifts for Wonwoo, and stays over for two days. He clings unceasingly to Wonwoo wherever he goes in the house and makes his presence known by singing loud, Trot songs. And while any other person would be annoyed, Wonwoo is just endeared. 

On the second night of his stay, they stay up till four in the morning talking about everything under the sun, till their eyelids become leaden and their limbs dead weight. 

"Are you asleep yet?" Soonyoung asks after fifteen minutes of radio silence. 

"Yes." 

Under the blanket, Soonyoung pokes around till he finds Wonwoo's hand. His fingers are warm and hesitant, as he carefully places something between Wonwoo's own fingers. 

The surface is cool and smooth. Wonwoo sits up. It's an envelope. 

"You-you wrote me a letter?" 

"No, geez! I'm not that gross. Look inside the envelope." 

So Wonwoo does. And he sees nothing but pitch black darkness inside. Right up until Soonyoung leans over and switches the night lamp on. 

Wonwoo's breath gets lost somewhere on the way as the inside of the envelope starts sparkling with pin pricks of light. It's the same sight Wonwoo sees when he visits his grandparents in the countryside—the clear night sky dotted with so many stars that everything else feels small and insignificant. 

Wonwoo carefully removes the envelope from his eyes and looks at Soonyoung. 

In the sleepy half-morning light of the lamp, the context of their friendship is ripped apart by Soonyoung smiling so adoringly at Wonwoo that the boy is taken aback. 

"It's astronomically correct." 

"Th-thanks." 

They curl up again under the blanket but this time a lot closer and facing each other. The sky outside has transitioned from black to indigo and the subdued light casts highlights on Soonyoung's hair. 

Wonwoo's tired brain manages to make a few tired thoughts. 

Inference 1. He likes Soonyoung; in more ways than one. 

Inference 2. Maybe Soonyoung likes him back. Just _maybe_. He believes so.

The world rests on hope.

It takes three weeks for Wonwoo to get used to having a crush on his best friend. At the end of the month, he just accepts he's doomed to suffer like this—silent and pining away into nothingness because he doesn't have the courage to confess. 

Courage, Wonwoo finds later, comes in a lot of forms. Jihoon suggests he try the liquid one. 

So this time, Wonwoo is the one who gets a little drunk at the party. Uninhibited and young, he confesses. Though his words fold a little into each other, he lays his heart out. 

He gets to see the stars all over again. Soonyoung's eyes get misty and he struggles to form words. 

"Soon-ah, don't cry." Wonwoo begs, as he flounders in his inebriated state. 

"I thought you'd never say that." he sounds choked up. It makes Wonwoo's heart beat a little off-piste. 

He lifts Soonyoung's head to see his lips pulled in a watery smile as tears run down his cheeks. 

"Soonyoung-ah, come on. Don't cry." He urges gently and thumbs the tears away. He's starting to feel like he's made a mistake. 

But then Soonyoung leans in and kisses him. It tastes salty with his tears still gushing. Wonwoo's drunken brain thinks it tastes a lot like Jaggery— sweet and salty and rich. 

 

Wonwoo has a lot of notions about everything. Soonyoung goes against most of them. He is the antithesis to everything Wonwoo thinks is true about the world.

Soonyoung doesn’t go by the book.

**Author's Note:**

> TL;DR: I have a giant boner for books. I make gratuitous use of em dashes.
> 
> This is it my friends. I have a major thing for those sweet, dreamy, wistful stories. I wanted to try my hand at one. It didn't quite work but I had fun writing it.
> 
> Leave a comment and tell me what you thought ~


End file.
